


seaside

by ThatsrightZoeyeyye



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: Beach Holidays, F/F, Holidays, Seaside, just my girls meeting at the beach every year all their lives and falling in love, zazzalil pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatsrightZoeyeyye/pseuds/ThatsrightZoeyeyye
Summary: As children, they used to play together in the sand, building castles together, fighting for the toys.As they got older, they did it less often, the excitement fading away. They walked along the beach instead, climbed rocks and raced in the waves. They stopped hating each other somewhere along the way.
Relationships: Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 44





	seaside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starkid writes discord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=starkid+writes+discord).



> this is pretty bad and also short but i need to get myself used to writing again or i'll never see the end of that six month old project that i hoped i'd get done before the end of the summer, so here goes nothing  
> prompt: "seaside" from the starkid writes discord server (link in my profile if you want to join! it's great, full of really nice people, with weekly prompts, and there's a fic exchange in july, you still have three days to sign up with you're interested)

Every year, from the first day of the holidays and until the end of July, Zazzalil went camping with her parents. Every year, she went to the same camping, on the same beach.

Every year, she sat on the same rock to watch the sun set behind the same horizon, behind the same waves of the same sea.

Every year, she met with kids her age at the same playground, bought ice cream at the same truck, ran along the same beach, climbed the same rocks.

Those holidays at the seaside were a constant in her life.

And every year, in the house up the hill, with the green garden and apple trees, and the narrow flower covered path that went down to the beach, came the same family. The picture perfect family, really.

The hard-working, strict but fair father, who handed money for ice cream with a sigh and fake disapproving smile.

The patient, kind and caring mother with pretty blond curls who kissed her children’s foreheads with a murmured “be good”.

The pretty daughter, obedient, good at school, who never complained when asked to help with the chores, humble and kind, with a brilliant future ahead.

The happy-go-lucky son, who always managed to get everyone to smile with his antics, good at sports and surrounded by friends, selfless, who always managed to get away with anything.

It wasn’t that Zazzalil was jealous of them and their show of happiness, financial and emotional stability and relentless altruism and cheerfulness. She wasn’t the jealous type. She understood that, given the circumstances, her family was very lucky to be where it was. Not every family with a dead father, an overworked mother and four kids could afford to go on vacation for that long every year.

She was lucky. Good at school, with an after-school job that rahter paid well, compared to what she could have gotten, and a future that looked good. She was fine. Everything could have been so much worse.

The daughter from the house up the hill was her age. They’d known each other their whole lives.

As children, they used to play together in the sand, building castles together, fighting for the toys. They essentially hated each other, but there was an unspoken truce when deciding a good time to build a castle according to the tide schedule, a peace of sorts when they watched their castles get destroyed by the sea as it rose, wall after wall getting torn down, tower after tower falling back to the ground as they giggled excitedly and screamed about villages getting submerged and kings getting drowned.

It was all very stupid, but they had fun. Their castles got more complicated as the years passed by, and soon they were meters wide, protected by walls and crevices, and the sea struggled against them to get the center of the maze. It felt like defying the laws of nature.

As they got older, they did it less often, the excitement fading away. They walked along the beach instead, climbed rocks and raced in the waves. They stopped hating each other somewhere along the way.

When she was thirteen, Zazzalil figured out she liked girls. She’d talked about it with Keeri, her best friend at school. It was pretty cool, if you asked her. She liked the idea of not being straight. She’d been raised in a good environment, she didn’t know enough to be scared yet.

When she was fourteen, Zazzalil figured out that liking girls meant she could actually date girls. She didn’t know how it hadn’t hit her before. Liking girls was a thing, but she still pictured men in her daydreams about weddings. Picturing women felt so much more powerful, and suddenly Zazzalil longed for love. It wasn’t just a distant dream anymore. The idea of holding a girl’s hand was enough for her heart to burn.

That summer, she got a crush on Jemilla. That summer, Jemilla told her she was bisexual. Zazzalil almost asked her out that day, felt the urge to run to her and kiss her. But she didn’t. It was scary. She imagined what it would be like to be with her, but she never made a move. They held hands when they walked. Girls did that. It meant nothing. Sometimes, Zazzalil closed her eyes and imagined it meant something.

The summer ended and she had said nothing. They said goodbye, hugged and promised to meet by the ice cream truck the next year, like every year.

The months passed and Zazzalil got over her. She got a crush on another girl, did nothing about it. The girl ended up with a boyfriend. It was fine, Zazzalil hadn’t expected anything. She got over her too.

That summer, Jemilla was already at the ice cream parlor when Zazzalil arrived. She had a girlfriend. It was fine, it really was. Zazzalil didn’t have feelings for her anymore, she was happy about it. She listened to Jemilla gush about her girlfriend and made fun of her good-naturedly. She wished she had someone. She told Jemilla it was fine, she was only fifteen, she had time. It was true, she did. She didn’t feel lonely, most of the time.

When Zazzalil was sixteen, she realized she actually didn’t like boys. She took quite some time to accept it, feeling like being attracted to women exclusively was selfish. But in the end, it was a relief. Liking girls felt better.

She fell in love with one of her classmates, and the girl liked her back. They promised to keep in touch over the summer. They did. Jemilla had broken up with the girl from the previous year. That year, she had Clark and Claire. They were absolutely wonderful, she said. Zazzalil’s girlfriend was also absolutely wonderful. She loved being in love.

Their sandcastles were getting ridiculously big. It took almost half an hour for the sea to wipe them down. Jemilla looked very proud of herself. Zazzalil thought it looked endearing. They spent most of their time sitting next to each other in silence, texting their respective significant others.

When she was twenty-two, she went with her parents again. Her older brother had stopped coming years ago. Her younger sister had stopped showing interest in it. She wondered if it would be her last year there.

Jemilla seemed to have the same concerns. Her parents told her she was always welcome, but everyone their age had stopped going on holidays with their parents, and they felt out of place. They tried not to think about it.

Zazzalil fell in love again. She hadn’t meant to, and it seemed stupid to fall for the same girl twice, but she did. It wasn’t her fault if Jemilla was perfect.

She tried not to think about it. They were both single, but Zazzalil didn’t think about it. She tried not to read too much into Jemilla’s smiles and the way she looked at her like she never had before. She was probably just imagining things.

On the last day, they made their biggest sand castle to date. Since it may be their last year together there, they thought they should go big. They spent six hours building it, until the center reached Zazzalil’s hips and the outer moats were knee deep. Kids passed by and stared at it, eyes wide, excitedly dragging their parents to see it, and Jemilla greeted them with excitement, proud of her work. Zazzalil did her best to deflect the balls that careless teenagers kept accidentally throwing in their direction.

The sea reached it at dusk, and by the time it was effectively submerged, the sun was set. They sat on the beach, enjoying the coolness of the sand and the gentle rush of the waves against the silence at night. Jemilla looked content, laying back on her elbows, looking away at the lighthouse, a small smile on her face. She was possibly the most beautiful woman Zazzalil had ever seen.

They talked, about nothing and everything, like they’d done since they were kids. It was almost midnight when they finally made their way back.

They found themselves at the bottom of the path that led up the hill to Jemilla’s summer house, standing in silence, like every year, wondering if it would be the last time.

It was Jemilla who started it, looking at Zazzalil with a cautiously hopeful look on her.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked.

Zazzalil nodded, and then she kissed Jemilla, because she’d wanted to do it for weeks, and also years, and if it was her last chance she had to take it.

It was about as great as she’d imagined. Maybe even better.

When she was thirty-three, she came back with her wife and five-year-old children. It was different from when they were kids. Zazzalil wasn’t used to living in the house up the hill just yet, sometimes instinctively walking back to the camping site.

Jemilla taught their children how to build sandcastles and Zazzalil bought them ice cream. They almost lost their wedding rings in the sand and their children caught tiny crabs in the rocks and put them in the castle.

It was nice.


End file.
